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Troubled
,
disturbed
,
Vanamee
went
away
,
passing
out
of
the
garden
,
descending
the
hill
.
He
forded
Broderson
Creek
where
it
intersected
the
road
to
Guadalajara
,
and
went
on
across
Quien
Sabe
,
walking
slowly
,
his
head
bent
down
,
his
hands
clasped
behind
his
back
,
thoughtful
,
perplexed
.
At
seven
o
’
clock
,
in
the
bedroom
of
his
ranch
house
,
in
the
white
-
painted
iron
bedstead
with
its
blue
-
grey
army
blankets
and
red
counterpane
,
Annixter
was
still
asleep
,
his
face
red
,
his
mouth
open
,
his
stiff
yellow
hair
in
wild
disorder
.
On
the
wooden
chair
at
the
bed
-
head
,
stood
the
kerosene
lamp
,
by
the
light
of
which
he
had
been
reading
the
previous
evening
.
Beside
it
was
a
paper
bag
of
dried
prunes
,
and
the
limp
volume
of
“
Copperfield
,
”
the
place
marked
by
a
slip
of
paper
torn
from
the
edge
of
the
bag
.
Annixter
slept
soundly
,
making
great
work
of
the
business
,
unable
to
take
even
his
rest
gracefully
.
His
eyes
were
shut
so
tight
that
the
skin
at
their
angles
was
drawn
into
puckers
.
Under
his
pillow
,
his
two
hands
were
doubled
up
into
fists
.
At
intervals
,
he
gritted
his
teeth
ferociously
,
while
,
from
time
to
time
,
the
abrupt
sound
of
his
snoring
dominated
the
brisk
ticking
of
the
alarm
clock
that
hung
from
the
brass
knob
of
the
bed
-
post
,
within
six
inches
of
his
ear
.
But
immediately
after
seven
,
this
clock
sprung
its
alarm
with
the
abruptness
of
an
explosion
,
and
within
the
second
,
Annixter
had
hurled
the
bed
-
clothes
from
him
and
flung
himself
up
to
a
sitting
posture
on
the
edge
of
the
bed
,
panting
and
gasping
,
blinking
at
the
light
,
rubbing
his
head
,
dazed
and
bewildered
,
stupefied
at
the
hideous
suddenness
with
which
he
had
been
wrenched
from
his
sleep
.
His
first
act
was
to
take
down
the
alarm
clock
and
stifle
its
prolonged
whirring
under
the
pillows
and
blankets
.
But
when
this
had
been
done
,
he
continued
to
sit
stupidly
on
the
edge
of
the
bed
,
curling
his
toes
away
from
the
cold
of
the
floor
;
his
half
-
shut
eyes
,
heavy
with
sleep
,
fixed
and
vacant
,
closing
and
opening
by
turns
.
For
upwards
of
three
minutes
he
alternately
dozed
and
woke
,
his
head
and
the
whole
upper
half
of
his
body
sagging
abruptly
sideways
from
moment
to
moment
.
But
at
length
,
coming
more
to
himself
,
he
straightened
up
,
ran
his
fingers
through
his
hair
,
and
with
a
prodigious
yawn
,
murmured
vaguely
:
“
Oh
,
Lord
!
Oh
-
h
,
LORD
!
”
He
stretched
three
or
four
times
,
twisting
about
in
his
place
,
curling
and
uncurling
his
toes
,
muttering
from
time
to
time
between
two
yawns
:
“
Oh
,
Lord
!
Oh
,
Lord
!
”
He
stared
about
the
room
,
collecting
his
thoughts
,
readjusting
himself
for
the
day
’
s
work
.
